Friday, November 25, 2011

Love Letters to Class



I’m always listening for feedback from my students.  Teenagers are, after all, known for an underdeveloped brain-to-mouth filter.  Since they rarely edit themselves, why wouldn’t I use their blunt comments to my own advantage and get a little better at what I do?

Laziness, for starters.  Not that I’m lazy as a teacher.  Lazy and teacher go together about as well as a power outage and school lunchtime.  Strange analogy?  Shut off all the lights in a cafeteria packed with hundreds of adolescents and see what happens.    I’ve lived it.  I still dream about it.  My nightmares are the stuff of of flying ketchup bottles and greasy tater-tots.
But back to my point.  Laziness as a teacher isn’t really an option unless you enjoy your classroom being a shit-show.  The trouble is, putting forth so much effort in keeping the tater-tots out and the learning in leaves little energy for the more subtle nuances of teaching.  Like interpreting teenage feedback.  They may be blunt, but teenagers are rarely overtly helpful in their comments.  
Adolescent feedback comes in 3 main categories:  The Obnoxious Comments, The Backhanded Compliment, and The You Just Totally Got Called  Out.   
The Obnoxious Comment:  These are the comments and questions that, should a teacher not be in an actively reflective mood, are usually fielded with a sarcastic response.   Are we doing anything today?  We should have a party.  Can we just take a nap?  School sucks.  (As a note, on my non-feedback seeking days, my standard answers are, respectively, 1. Yes, we’re all going to pick our noses then wipe the boogers on your desk. 2. You are correct.  We should have a party and you should all bring me gifts. 3.  Certainly.  As soon as you get home.  4.  And by “sucks” you mean “Good morning, Señora! How are you today?”)  
The thing with The Obnoxious Comments, is that if you’re getting them from one kid accompanied by a shit-eating grin, he’s just being a pain for the sheer delight of it.  If, however, you are suddenly hearing similar comments from multiple students, do a check-in with your class.  They’re telling you they’re fried, so there’s likely something else going on.  AP tests coming up?  Long stretch without break?  Report cards due soon?  When The Obnoxious Comments rear their head with any sort of frequency, I’d bet money the kids are stressing over something.   
The Backhanded Compliment:  The most affirming type of teenage feedback, The Backhanded Compliment can easily slip by unnoticed, or even be mistaken for an Obnoxious Comment. 
 “Argh!  Yuck.  Now I have to go to math/English/P.E.”  Seemingly an Obnoxious Comment related to School sucks, the student is actually implying is that being in your class is preferable to going to math/English/P.E.  So kudos to you.  
Geez, Sra.  How come we never get to do just nothing for a day?” Sounds like a whiny Are we doing anything today?  but actually indicates that you’re setting high expectations for your students and they know that when they set foot in your room, they’re going to be working their tails off.  
My favorite Backhanded Compliment?  Dude.  This class isn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.  Warms the little cockles of my heart every time.  
The You Just Totally Got Called Out:  By far, this is the most unpleasant teenage feedback device.  These little puppies are hard to ignore, but rarely result in any direct teacher improvement, because they tend to come with a nasty sting that knocks us straight into defensive mode.  The You Just Totally Got Called Out feedback generally appears in dialogue form between two members of the same class in a semi-whispered-but-not-really format:
Q:  “Geez.  Why is Señora so crabby today?”
A:  “Whatever.  She’s like this all the time with us.  She hates our class.”
Q:  “Whoa.  I totally bombed the vocab section of my test.”
A:  “Don’t worry about it, man.  Everybody did.  Sra. always tests us on on crap she doesn’t teach.”
You Just Totally Got Called Out comments generally involve some exaggeration but still ring true which is why we get defensive.  You might not hate every member of that class,  but it’s probably not your favorite.  And you did teach that concept...though admittedly half-assedly.  
Whatever feedback format your students choose to use, Ignore the sting (or buy yourself a beer to take the edge off) and then sit down and think about it.  Your students are probably right.  They usually are.
Which is why it would be so much easier to get their feedback in a straightforward form.  Interpreting teenage comments is annoying, time-consuming, and unpredictable.  I never know when my students are going to bless me with the opportunity to be Totally Called Out.  But I always need to work on getting better.
So I created the opportunity for them to tell me what they think.  I had them write love letters to my class.  And the results were so insanely helpful (and fun - getting totally ripped on was actually fun-) that I”m passing it on.  Check out the new label at the top of the blog:  Useful Junk.  It’s Shit That Works (the original label title but, worrying I might be crossing the Crude Line when I’d much rather be doing a little jig on top of it, I toned it down a notch) in ready-to-use form.  I’ve tried to make it as idiot-proof as possible. Which in no way, dear reader, implies that you are an idiot.  It’s just my way of saving you time and work.  Read, print, use.  Here’s the link for the Love Letters:  http://pigsong.blogspot.com/2011/11/love-letters_25.html  That’s right.  You’re welcome.
In return, just do me a little favor.  If you use it, “like” it and pass it on.  At least give me a little credit for doing your work for you.  Because if you don’t I have no qualms about Calling You Out.
Backhanded Compliments and Obnoxious Comments entirely welcome.  Enjoy.  

Useful Junk: Student Feedback - Love Letters



Good for: quarter/semester/year-end check-ins.  Could be altered to be used for unit or chapter reflection as well.

The prompt:
You are going to write a love letter (or break-up letter, as the case may be) to Spanish class.  The purpose of this is for me to gather information about how both you and I are doing in class.  Please answer or complete at least four of the following seven questions/comments.  Be honest.   No solid relationship is built on lies.

When I take a good, hard look at our relationship I see...
What have you done for me lately?
I’m going to offer you this advice...
If I could have changed something I did in our relationship, it would be...
What have been the good times?  The bad?
From you, I need...
Here’s where I see our relationship going...
What I really need you to know about me is...


User tips:
  • Note, please, that I  intentionally made the love letters to Spanish class and not to me.  That would be all kinds of awkward.  And illegal.  I also explicitly explained this to students.   Just something to consider, should you want to steal the idea.
  • Use as a closure activity.  Give the kids around 10 minutes to write  and encourage them to find creative ways to say whatever they want.  They’ll leave class both reflective and entertained by your bizarre request.
  • My questions were reasonably broad as I was using this for a semester check-in.  Tightening up or altering the questions can give you more specific feedback.  (ie.  The last month that we have been dating has been...If I had to describe the one activity this week that most benefited our relationship...)
Sample Letters:
These are a few of the letters I received.  I do not recommend showing sample letters to students before they write their own, as that will result in a lot of similar letters and style formats.  Force  the kids to make it up as they go.  I did want to post a few of the ones I have received in the past, however, as an idea of what kind of feedback you might get.
#1: Dear Spanish Class,
When I take a good, hard look at our relationship, I can see that we are doing so well.  I love spending time with you.  You have given me so much, but I just haven't put in the effort that is necessary.  I've been spending too much time with my mistress, who has obviously had an impact on my evenings and nights.  This mistress is AP Government, and our love child is the Policy Paper.  I'm so sorry I had to tell you this now, but later is better than never.  I need a slower-paced quarter to get to the end of the semester.  What you really need to know about me, Spanish class, is I think we will be together forever.
Sincerely,
E.
P.S.  Sorry about being unloyal.
#2:  Dear Spanish Class,
When I think about our relationship, I see that you've become a little wrong for me. You just wanna have some sorta deal with some perfect speaking, but guess what...I'm not perfect.  I've put in hard work, girl, I'm stepping my game up.  I've been taking notes and doing my homework.  But I didn't really appreciate all those times when I had to play those games with you - especially those online vocabulary ones.  So tricky.  You always switched up those verbs.  But you ain't pulling that 3-hour stuff on me again.  I didn't enjoy speaking to you orally neither.  What I really need to tell you is that I'm kind of in this relationship with English class...and she really knows how to talk.
Peace out,
Y.
#3:  Dear Spanish Class,
When I look at our relationship, I see unicorns riding dolphins.  I'm just confused.  I think the hints you give about yourself sometimes come off too strong.  I am not eager to please you, and according to my grade, neither are you.  I am not giving the relationship all I can because once I have my graduation requirements...well...I'll put it this way.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Trash gets dumped
And so do you.
--A.
Follow-up:
Be prepared to either touch base with students one-on-one or respond to letters.  Responding to everyone one isn’t necessary, but I had several students request in a P.S. that they would like a letter in return.  I also followed up with brief notes to any student expressing struggles or frustration.  The response was huge - I immediately saw an attitude change in a couple of students, and had a number come by my room for extra help simply because I had offered it in a note signed “I believe we can fix this.  Sincerely, Spanish Class.” By verbally touching base with kids, I found they were willing to share even more information with me once they saw I had cared enough to actually read what they wrote and follow up with them on it afterwards.
Please share any good ones you receive!


Sunday, November 6, 2011

Email of the Week: Light Bulbs


Please note:  All emails of the week are real, though identifying details have been changed.  They are not, however, current.  Nor are they all mine.  But they are, indeed, funny as hell.


Dear Teacher,
I appreciate the quick response. It has been a tough year for Dwight but
I have seen him turn the corner. The light bulb, though not bright,
is not as dim as it once was. 
Sincerely,
Parent



Saturday, November 5, 2011

MacGyvering the Classroom

I hollered at two kids yesterday for using my tape.

I only have 1.5 roles of Scotch tape to last me through the foreseeable future.  And I am guarding those sonsabitches like nobody's business.

Why, you ask, in a world where most cutting and pasting is done in Microsoft Word, am I so hyper possessive of my tape?

Dictionaries, for one. I'm constantly taping them back together.   I have no idea how teenagers manage to make a simple Spanish to English Dictionary look more well-worn than a trashy mag in a sketchy men's restroom, but manage it they do, with under-the-radar dictionary destroying abilities, even when I'm at my most vigilant.  (By coincidence, of course, the binding is usually split open to the page where the word shit handily announces that you are now in the sh- section of the alphabet.)

Shit dictionaries aside (ha! pun!) it's the damn tape that stresses me out.  What the hell am I going to use to stick my books (not to mention the various homework assignments, tests, and the occasional flip-flop)  back together once my 1.5 rolls are gone?

Buy more?  What?  What is this crazy excess of which you speak?

Forget MacGyver. Any clown can make a walkie-talkie out of toothpaste and a hairnet.  I've gotta teach 120 students on fifty cents per student per year.  Give MacGyver 120 teenagers,  sixty bucks and 180 days and I guarantee something will blow up.  Probably good ol' Angus' head once he realizes that his teenagers have already destroyed sixty dollars worth of pencils in the first five minutes.  (Bet you didn't know that MacGyver's first name was Angus.  Yeah, neither did I.  Google!)

Gather 'round kiddos.  Time for a little math and the joys of inter-curricular learning.
Eight full time world language teachers + load of ~ 125 students per teacher (not including study halls or related responsibilities) = 1,000 students/ a department budget of $500 = 50 cents per student.
Voilá!

And ours is not the biggest department in the school.  The doozies - the history department, English department - they teach way more kids than us.  And guess how much they get this year?  $500!  Wheee! So they're really looking at more like 30 cents a kid, with which they will buy:

whiteboard markers
erasers
pencils
pens
staples
tape
paper clips
file folders
hanging folders
three ring binders
glue
scissors

Oh...forget it.  Just go open your desk drawer, take note of everything in there and then multiply it by one high school.  Checked out the price of a roll of Scotch tape lately?  Nearly two bucks.  There go four students' entire annual budgets.

But I'm a lucky gal.  I work at a school that would rather cut the budgets for absolutely everything else but leave my job and my salary intact.  So I'll pay it forward.  I may not be as '80s fab-tastic as McGyver, but I can pull some impressive feats.  I will not cheat my students just because the system has.

"Alright, punks," I tell them.  "You want to make masks for Day of the Dead?  Fair enough.  But part of my job as a teacher isn't just teaching you Spanish...it's teaching you how to think.  So, make the most culturally accurate mask you can, but each one of you is limited to one piece of paper, five staples and three colors.  GO!"  Suddenly,  they're competitive.  And clever, bragging to me when they underuse their limits.  And thinking harder than they would be if I had supplies coming out my wazoo.

Yes, I could teach better if I had a few more resources.  But I try not to teach worse, just because I don't.  And even though I've just completely contradicted myself, I get to do that because I'm a teacher.

I'm not contradicting myself.  I'm making you think.

Which brings me to the hidden perks of teaching.  Shit I Can Get Away With Because I'm a Teacher and You're Not.

But that's for another blog post.  For now, I'm off to grade ninety compositions with nothing but a butter knife and some tweezers.

And in case you're wondering...all those MacGyver references?  Don't use them in your classes.

They just make you look old.